


Lost in the night

by Idontneedyouanymore



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Baby boy needs a hug, Depressed Jughead Jones, FP Jones II tries, Good Parent Fred Andrews, Heavy Angst, Hurt Jughead Jones, Hurt/Comfort, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, M/M, Protective Archie Andrews, Protective FP Jones II, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Supportive Archie Andrews, Worried FP Jones II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-05-30 22:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19412365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idontneedyouanymore/pseuds/Idontneedyouanymore
Summary: Jughead tires endlessly to prove that Hiram Lodge is a criminal, but he never wanted to prove that he is a rapist as well.





	1. Chapter 1

Fear wasn’t something he considered a friend. People went to movies to jump, get scared, feel that adrenaline rush through their bodies, and then laugh about it later. That was fear, but it was fun, harmless. Sure, it might cause a few nightmares, but nothing that could actually damage them. It was fun fear. This, this wasn’t fun whatsoever, in fact, it was anything but fun.

  
Jughead didn’t mean to end up here, and the Pembrooke, unable to move, limbs feeling heavy and gelatin like. It wasn’t supposed to happen, all he was trying to do was save the south side from Hiram Lodge, the man behind all of the dark twisted things happening in Riverdale. No one believed him, everyone thought he was losing it, even Archie thought he was going local, said that he needed to take a step back and really look at what he was doing. Hearing that from his boyfriend hurt a lot, because he was so entirely sure that he had this right, that Hiram was going to take apart his side of town, take his childhood, and make it into some big fancy building, or business. No one believed him though. If only they could see him right now.

  
Body tied to a chair, and the devil himself in front of him, laughing at his failed attempts to get out of the binds. It was no use, the fucker knew how to tie knots. Jug would’ve made some dirty joke about it, but fear plagued him, he was frozen. Not because of Hiram’s fist finding its way into his face, or the fact that he was so fucking confused, but because of what Hiram had just said. Jughead had to give him something in order to be able to leave, and it wasn’t something he was very willing to go along with, but there is a gun to his head, and at this point, there isn’t a way out of this mess.

  
Hiram wants his virginity as a payment. How he knows that Jughead is a virgin? He has no fucking clue. It was reserved for Archie, for when he felt ready, not for when he has a gun pressed against his temple, and a full grown man is running his hands over his skin.

Jughead has no clue where his shirt or pants are, but all he had left is his boxers, not even his beanie is within sight. Hiram’s hands are rough against his pale, smooth skin. The man's hands running from his lips, down to his navel, inching into his boxers. Fingers, brushing against his lips, hovering over his nipples, making him shiver and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that someone would walk in and get him the hell out of here.

  
Very suddenly, he was untied, and pushed roughly to the floor, and that’s when he realized that he had been drugged. Legs wouldn’t move, arms would flail, nothing moved, he couldn’t move. Literally. Not from fear, but because he actually couldn’t even if he tried. It was easy for Hiram to push him around, and flip him on to his stomach, running hands down his bare back, and gripping his rear, making him cry out slightly. He didn’t want this. All he wanted to do was prove that Hiram was a criminal, he didn’t want to prove that he’s a fucking rapist.

  
“You are really pretty ya know? Such a pretty boy. It’s a shame that you’re from where you are, otherwise, I would take you in, make you my little boy. Make you mine. No doubt about that baby.”

Jughead’s skin crawled. Only Archie called him baby. Only Archie got to run his hands over his body, slip them into his boxers, touch him in his most private and sensitive areas. Only Archie got to make him cry out, moan, and experience pleasure that he didn’t know he could. Only Archie got to place kisses to each on of his moles.

Only Archie.

  
Tears started falling at some point, but Jughead couldn’t seem to remember when. Maybe when his boxers were pulled down, when Hiram’s fingers roughly invaded his body in ways no one had before, maybe when the man pushed his whole length inside of his unprepared body, making him bleed and sob. Or maybe the tears started when his hips were roughly grabbed onto, when the thrusts became brutal and forceful, causing him to move across the floor slightly. It doesn’t matter when they started. All he could see was Hiram’s desk, the fireplace, the couch. His scent was flooded with the man’s repulsive cologne. He suddenly wasn’t a virgin, he knew what it felt like to have Hiram in him, tear him apart. Screams tore their way from his throat, desperate cries for it to stop, for everything to stop. There was the warm feeling of blood dripping down his shaking thighs, it felt like he was being torn apart, it hurt so fucking bad. All he wanted was for this to stop, to have Archie hold him, to have his dad pull him close and make the nightmare stop. Just like when he was little.

  
No such luck.

  
It seemed to last hours, but suddenly, the man went stiff, releasing himself inside of Jug, causing bile to rise in his throat, the sudden urge to hurl all of the plush carpet was so strong.

  
Then there was nothing. No Hiram, no awful cologne, nothing. He was alone, bleeding, tears soaking his cheeks, clothes thrown by his side. It hurt like hell it hurt too much.   
With a cry, he managed to roll onto his back, looking up at the popcorn ceiling, trying to control his breathing, his thoughts.

  
He was just raped.

  
That thought scared him far too much. Fear filled his body. Suddenly, he could move, but it hurt far too much to do so. Jughead wanted anything but to be here anymore, but he just couldn’t fucking move, it hurt so bad. There is no way he’ll be able to walk out of here, and all the way home. It sounds like torture, pure torture.

  
His phone. Yes, the phone. It was in his back pocket, the one in his jeans, all he had to do was grab it, and call someone. His dad. Yes. Dad would know what to do. Jug just needed someone, he needed someone badly, and the thought of Archie seeing him like this made shame course throughout his body.

  
With a groan, he crawled the little way to his pants, yanking his phone from the back pocket, and unlocking it after too many tries. Scrolling through his contacts, he saw his dad’s number near the top, and without second thought, clicked the call button.

  
Three rings, that’s how long it took before Jughead heard his dad’s tired voice come through the speaker, and it occurred to him that it’s really late, it occurred to him that he didn’t know what the hell he was going to say to his dad.

  
“Jug? Where are you boy? I’ve been worried sick about you. Archie called, said you never came over.”

It suddenly seemed impossible to speak, and all he could do was cry, a pathetic sob tearing free from his throat. He was so cold, and in so much fucking pain. He needed out.   
There was shuffling, and something sounding like a door slamming shut, another opening and closing, and then a car starting.

  
“Where are you Juggy?”

The fear in his father's voice broke him.

  
“P-Pe-Pembroke. Plea-please dad. H-hurry. Be…careful.”

His own voice sounded strange, tainted, just like his body, his view on the world. Nothing seemed right. Everything was out of place, but there was no way to fix it. He was torn apart tonight, shattered, and he had no clue how to put himself back together again.

  
The hitch in his dad’s voice brought him back to reality, shocking him out of his thoughts. 

“I’ll be there in five minutes. Can you stay on the phone with me? What happened Jug?”

Tears fell from his blue eyes, and all he could do was cry, needing to get out of this fucking place. Needing to be anywhere else, anywhere that wasn't this damn place that would forever hold terrifying memories that he couldnt get rid of even if he tried. All he could hear was his dad’s heavy breathing, a tell tale sign of anger.

  
“Jughead? Are you okay? I need you to talk to me.”

he couldn't though, it seemed impossible to even tell his dad what had happened. Shame was flowing freely throughout him, and all he wanted to do was curl up and disappear. No such luck though, nothing ever worked out though, it seemed as though nothing ever would, nothing. Instead of responding, he just whimpered, hoping his dad would understand that he couldn't talk right now, that he didn't trust his own voice right now

  
“Okay, just stay there bub, I'm coming, I’ll be right there I promise.”

Jughead took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, trying to make it all go away.   
It seemed like hours, days even, until he heard a door slam open, and his dad’s loud voice ringing through the empty apartment, making him jump. By then, he had managed to pull his boxers back up his legs, the thought of his dad seeing him completely bare scared him far too much, he didn't want to be so exposed, he wanted to curl up in a big blanket, and have the world recede from his life. Dealing with this seemed like far too much work, trying to right everything that had gone wrong seemed far too difficult for him to handle. Even if he wasn’t alone in this mess, it still seemed impossible.

  
The door to the office swung open, startling Jug from his thoughts, making him jump, and attempt to hide himself from whoever it was. Logically, he knew that it was just his dad, coming to take him home, and try to keep him safe from the dark world that he now lived in. He didn’t bother to look up, there was no use in it, he knew what his father’s face would look like. There would be pain, confusion, concern, and maybe even shame. Every single part of Jughead was afraid of what his dad would think of him now that this had happened. Would he think of his son as weak, a failure to the family. He was supposed to be tough, and able to throw punches, fight back keep himself safe from this hell. There were gentle hands on his back in a second, his dad kneeling on the floor next to him, trying to check him over. It seemed as though he already knew what happened, because he was carefully draping his Serpent jacket of Jug’s shaking body, pulling him into his arms in hopes of keeping him safe, grounded. FP was livid, felt nothing but anger and guilt. It was far too obvious, what happened, and it hurt to think about his son all alone, afraid, and being violated in the worst of ways. With careful movements, Jughead was pulled into his dad’s lap, hair brushed back, and tired eyes meeting his dad’s, hating the way they teared up. He couldn't seem to stop crying, in fact, he could hardly catch his breath for a second or two.

  
“Jug? Hey, you’re okay. Im here, alright? We’re gonna go home bub, it's alright, you're okay.”

He sure as hell didn't feel okay, nothing felt okay, he was in pain, and wanted nothing more than to be home and in bed, Archie holding onto him, running hands through his thick, black hair, keeping him close and peppering kisses to his pale skin. He wasn't there though, he was here, on the cold hard ground, and unsure of how he was going to fix himself. Fix this mess.

  
His dad lifted him up with ease, carrying him out of the hell hole and into their beat up truck. He wasn't sure where they were going, or if he was going to be okay, but he wasn't alone anymore, and for some reason, that's the only thing that really mattered to him in the moment. He couldn't help but cry on the way home, but no, no they weren't going home, they were going to the hospital, and fear seared throughout his body, he didn't want to be touched. He wanted Archie and only Archie his wanted his boyfriend. The hospital seemed like the worst option as of now, all he wanted to do was go home and not deal with all of this until later, he wanted to sleep and have his boyfriend hold him close for as long as possible.

  
He barely remembered going into the hospital, of course the exam was stuck with him and the pictures. He wanted anything but to be touched and photographed, and he tried to tell his dad over and over again that he wanted to go home, he really just wanted to go home, but his dad seemed far away, his eyes were glazed over, and there was fury in them. For a fleeting moment, Jughead thought that maybe the anger was directed towards him, that his dad thought he was weak and pathetic, but suddenly, his dad was by his side, holding his hand, and telling him that it would be okay. Even if it didn't feel like it, it felt like it was going to be anything but okay, but he let his dad believe that he was helping, that he was doing something to soothe the pain that was buried deep within him. It was painful and heartbreaking, all of it, the photos, the feeling of tools slipping within him, the pain that throbbed deep inside his body, it was all awful, but it was over within and hour. It was the longest hour of his life, but he managed, and he was now covered in blankets, wearing his dad’s sweatshirt because of how fucking cold he was, he was so fucking cold, and everything seemed to be falling, but he was still floating, suspended in pain and darkness. Jughead wanted to go home, now. At some point, day broke through the clouds, morning came, and the night went away. His dad was still wide awake, watching him like a hawk, making sure he was okay, and not in any more pain. There was pain, but it was tolerable, it wasn't fun, but it wasn't awful. Everything else was, but at least there wasn’t a sharp stabbing pain flowing throughout his body.

  
When he opened his eyes, there was no light flooding through the windows, the blinds were closed and rain was thudding against the windows. His dad was talking quietly, something about taking a ride up north, just them, riding away from this cruel town. Jughead whimpered softly, looking over at his dad, who was running a thumb up and down his cheek.

  
“Juggy...hey bub, how ya feeling?”

Jug looked at his dad’s tired eyes, and then looked at his hands, clutched in them was his beaning, a hole torn in it, shattering the last thing he had of his mom. He didn’t even realize that he was crying until his dad was standing up and pulling him into his arms, holding him close, shushing him and his cries, trying to soothe him.

“Shh, it’s okay kiddo, calm down, you’re alright now. You’re gonna be just fine, it’s okay.”

Jughead just shook, starring over his dad’s shoulder, looking out into the hallway, seeing nothing but bright lights that were blurred around the edges. Nothing seemed okay, it seemed like one big lie. Like the ones your parents told you when you’re little, when you’re gullible and easy to play with. Jughead just wanted to go away for a little while, let the darkness take him away from this hell, and keep him surrounded by something other than pain. Instead, he held onto his dad tightly, trying to calm his breathing, keep everything under control. Even when it seemed impossible to do so.

  
His dad pulled back to look at him, running a thumb over his bruised cheek, brushing it softly.

  
“We can go home soon baby. We’ve just gotta get some medication, and I have to go talk with your doctor. We’ll be home before you know it, I promise. Will you be okay here? Or do you want me to call Archie?”

The thought of seeing Archie made him nervous, him and Archie were doing well, and Jughead didn’t wanna ruin that, make Archie take care of him. He was tainted now, nothing about him was pure or good anymore, everything that Archie loved about him was ruined and gone. Archie would never want him now that this had happened. Hiram Lodge had ruined him, everything about him was ruined. Archie would be disgusted, he would hate him for letting Hiram do this, take something that Archie was supposed to. At the same time, Jughead wanted nothing more than for Archie to be here, to hold him, keep him close against his firm chest, run his hands through his hair and sing softly in his ear, just like when they would cuddle in Archie’s bed at night when everything was silent and safe. It wasn’t the case anymore, but Jughead couldn’t find it in him to care at this point. He wanted Archie, and if he didn’t want to come, to have Jughead anymore, than he could deal with it later, but he had to give it a chance.

  
“Could you have Archie come?”

His own voice sounded odd and strained, as if he was listening from under water, it was like he was floating, moving in and out of hurt and pain.

  
FP nodded, placing a kiss on his forehead, trying to keep it together for his boy. He stood, squeezing Jughead’s hand, smiling sadly at him. The room was empty and Jughead had a moment to breathe. To think, he could think. For once though, he didn’t want to. Instead, he broke down, he sobbed into his pillow, praying that no one heard him, that no one could hear his heartbreaking cries. He cried and cried, until he was out of tears.

  
The was a knock at the door, and Jug rolled over to face the door, watching as his boyfriend’s face came into view, his eyes slightly red, hair tousled, and the tell tale sign of anger in his brown eyes. Jughead looked up at him with big eyes, hands gripping the sheets, bottom lip trembling, and more tears threatening to fall down his cheeks.

  
“Juggy...God, Jug….I’m so sorry that I didn’t answer your call. I thought that you were on your way, and then you texted saying you needed to stop somewhere, and I...I should’ve asked where, should’ve come and picked you up. I’m so sorry baby.”

Archie walked quickly over to the bedside, sitting in the chair, and grabbing Jughead’s hand softly, placing kisses along his knuckles. Jug shook his head, running a hand through his red hair.

“It’s not your fault Archie. I wouldn’t...I would never blame you for this. It’s...it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have antagonized him, none of this would’ve happened….it’s my fault. I’m sorry Archie. I’m so….I’m so fucking sorry. I know….I get it if you don’t want me anymore...I know that I’m, like, tainted now. I’m so sorry.”

Archie looked at him, love filling his brown eyes.

“Of course I don’t think that. I would never think that of you Juggy. You’re not tainted, there isn’t a damn thing that you did wrong, this isn’t on you. None of this. No one is blaming you for anything that happened, not your dad, our friends, my dad, and never, ever me.”

Jughead shook his head, tears slipping down his cheeks, he felt so fucking used and ruined. He felt dirty, disgusted, worthless, but there was still something. This tiny little light that came from Archie Andrews, the one person that had been there for him through all of it. Every bully, bruise, drunken fight with his dad. He was there when Jughead was outed, and the whole school heard. Archie was the one who held him, and wiped the word faggot off of his locker many times. Jughead had Archie and that had to be enough for now. Jug looked up into Archie’s brown eyes, scooting over slightly.

  
“Could you...will you lay with me?”

Archie smiled softly, running his hands through his black hair. He nodded, laying beside Jughead, rolling onto his back, and pulling Jughead close to him. Letting him get comfortable. Jug laid his head onto Archie’s firm chest, and let himself sink into the familiar scent and warmth of his boyfriend, letting himself feel safe and protected for a little while. Nothing made sense, everything was falling apart, and all Jughead wanted to do was give up for a little while, but he couldn’t. Not with Archie here, holding him and singing softly. Archie was the only thing that mattered right now, and with that in mind, Jughead fell into a deep sleep.

  
It was decided that Jughead and FP would be staying at Archie’s place. It was safer, warmer and felt more like a home. Plus, Fred and FP couldn’t seem to separate the two boys, Archie was against letting his boyfriend go, and Jughead was too afraid to let anyone else touch him. Other than his dad of course. With the two boys together for Fred and FP felt more comfortable, knowing that Jughead and Archie, knowing that both of them felt better this way. Archie avoided going to school for a few days, wanting to be with Jug for as long as possible.

  
Jughead wasn’t doing much, he laid in bed most of the time and tried to engage in conversation with his dad and Archie, but his head didn’t seem too set on that. Every night there were more bad dreams, and Hiram chasing after him, pinning him down, taking everything away. Every night he awoke, screaming and crying, needing Archie or his dad to hold him until sleep overtook him once again. It was hard, and everything seemed to be upside down and to difficult to navigate.

  
Archie went back to school and Tuesday, after arguing with his dad for a solid 30 minutes. That first day without Archie holding him, Jughead felt cold, lost and scared to move. Archie’s bed was far too lonely without him, but going downstairs and facing the world seemed much harder than staying in the cold bed. He slept away most of the day, listening to his father and Fred talk about what would happen next, what he would do for school, because apparently going back wasn’t his best option, not with trauma coursing through him. Without Archie, Jughead wasn’t sure where to turn, so when he woke up sobbing, he had no clue as to what to do. He held his knees to his chest, and desperately tried to calm himself. He couldn’t though. So through shaking breaths, and harsh sobs, he called out for his dad, hoping that he wasn’t sleeping or out. The door swung open and his dad walked in, rushing over to the bed and sitting down beside his son, pulling him into his arms, running a hand up and down his back, telling him that he was okay, that he just needed to take a deep breath. Jughead calmed down after nearly an hour, collapsing against his dad’s chest, shaking and heaving. FP ran his hands through his hair, pulling him closer and hugging him close, trying to make him feel safe. It seemed impossible after what happened, he was torn apart, ruined and violated. There was nothing that FP could do other than be there for his son. Jughead needed him, and although he wasn’t the best dad, he could at least do this for his son.

  
“Juggie, what happened bub?”

His boy was shaking, clinging tightly to his dad. He couldn’t bring himself to talk to his dad about anything, he felt so ashamed, like his dad was ashamed of him. It was like he wasn’t himself anymore, like everything about him was ruined, like he was taken apart and destroyed. He was unloveable, he was touched now, tainted.

  
He shook his head, trying to stop his tears.

  
“Hey, talk to me. It’s okay, you’re okay now. I promise bub. You’ve gotta talk to me. I can only help if you let me in.”

  
“How can you not hate me dad? You always wanted a tough son, a fighter, and all I’ve done is let you down over and over again. I’m so sorry dad.”

  
FP held him closer, kissing his temple, running a hand up and down his boney back, trying to soothe him.

  
“I could never hate you. You haven’t let me down baby, I’ve let you down, over and over again. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I love you so much, this shouldn’t have happened, and I’m so sorry that it did. I’m so sorry Jughead.”

He didn't want his dad to be sorry or feel bad, he just wanted him here, wanted to make sure that he wasn't leaving anytime soon. The world was falling apart and it seemed like it was taking him down with it. With a sigh, Jughead pulled the blankets tighter around his body and hoped that the world would stop spinning for awhile, just until he could get back up again. FP pulled him closer and told him to go back to sleep, try and get a few more hours, saying that he would go pick up Pop’s later for them to eat. Juggie nodded, letting his head fall to his dad’s chest, and let his eyes slip shut. There wasn’t a lot left that he could do. All he could do is put his faith and trust into the people around him and hope that they don’t let him down. FP ran his hands through the boys hair and let his own eyes fall closed, praying that he could get his son through this, that he could be there to help all the way.   
Jughead woke up to the sound of a door opening and closing. He opened his eyes when he smelled the recognizable smell of Archie. The red headed boy was sitting beside him, running a hand up and down his back, smiling sadly.

  
“Hey Jug. How you feeling?”

Jughead shrugged, scooting over and making room for Archie to lay down by him. The bigger boy pulled him into his arms, letting Juggy lay his head on his firm chest. Oranges and wood, that was the smell of Archie Andrews, and it only helped to calm Jughead’s mind and heart. The warmth that Archie radiated had always amazed Jughead. The boy was basically a human furnace and it came in handy many times before now. With a sigh, Archie placed a kiss to Jughead’s forehead, and then his cheek, temple, and hair. Breathing in the raven haired boys scent.

  
Archie was livid. His boyfriend was hurting and broken, because of the man that he had been helping for the past few months. When he met Hiram, Veronica was his closest friend, and he felt the need to help out her family. He wishes endlessly that he hadn’t said a word to Hiram, that Jughead hadn’t gotten so involved in the South Side and it shutting down.   
He understood that his boyfriend was angry and sad, because his whole childhood was being torn apart. Archie remembers trying to calm him down one night when the boy came over, tears streaming down his face, claiming that Hiram lodge was taking every last bit of his family away from him. All of the memories with his sister, and mom. His dad was going downhill again. Archie held him close, tried to tell him that it would get better, but he had to calm down and not do anything stupid. Jughead said he wouldn’t.

  
Archie doesn’t blame him for what happened. He could never, but if Juggy hadn’t gone out there and pissed of Hiram, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened, maybe his boyfriend wouldn’t be broken and bruised, stuck in a world of pain and darkness. Just maybe everything would be okay.

  
“I can hear you thinking Arch.”

  
Archie snapped his gaze down to the boy in his arms. Jug was playing with the string of Archie’s sweatshirt, tears falling down his face, but they seemed to always be there now. Arch wrapped his arms completely around Jug, pulling him closer and turning of the bedside lamp.

  
“It’s nothing baby. Try and get some sleep, you’re okay now. I’m right here. Go to sleep Juggy.”

He didn’t seem to buy it, Jug looked at him questionably, but let it go, the dark bags under his eyes winning. The smaller boy scooted up a little, and snuggled his face into Archie’s neck, placing a soft kiss on it. Arch smiled lightly, settling his hands on Jug’s, turning them ever so gently so he was the big spoon, pulling his boyfriend close to his chest, and letting his hand grip Jughead’s.

  
“I love you Juggy.”

  
“Love you to Arch.”

  
When Archie woke up, his throat was dry, and his arms were empty. Shooting up in his bed, he looked around for Jughead, but came up with nothing. Stumbling out of the room, he walked to the hallway to the bathroom, hoping that Jughead was in there, or at least down stairs. It should be a good thing, that the boy had finally gotten out of bed, but Archie was overprotective now, worried every minute of the day that something bad would happen to his boy.

  
Opening the bathroom door, Archie saw only a steam filled room, the shower pulsing, some water making its way onto the tiled floor.

  
“Juggy? Are you okay?”

No answer.

  
Terror filled Archie, a lump forming in his throat, and it reminded him of the time when Jughead was 14. He had tried to kill himself on the bathroom floor of his old house, and when Archie came over, all he could hear was FP sobbing about how sorry he was. It felt like that. He could only pray that when he pulled the shower door open, that he wouldn’t see his boyfriend lying on the shower floor, both wrist slit. Not again.

  
He pulled open the door gently, and found Jug curled up on the floor, knees pulled to his chest, and back against the corner of the shower wall. His eyes were glazed over, a void of emotion. The sound of the door opening caused Jughead to jump and snap his gaze to Archie, thin chest heaving, face red, and eyes puffy.

  
“Juggy...what happened? Are you okay?”

  
The boy looked around, confused.

  
“I...I had a nightmare. He was…here, gonna-.”

A choked off sob cut him off, and Archie never moved quicker, he shut off the ice cold water, and wrapped the pale boy in a towel, letting him sob into his chest. Break for the first time since that hellish night. Shaky hands held onto his blue sweatshirt, cries filling the Andrews’ household. Archie faintly heard footsteps racing up the stairs, but didn’t pay any mind to it, there was a boy in his arms that couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Fred and FP appeared at the bathroom doorway, shocked and confused. Fred dashed to get some clothes and water, but FP stood there, a blank canvas, not recognizing the boy in front of him. Not understanding who his son was anymore. It was as if the world had turned upside down, and taken his boy with it.

  
Getting Jughead back to bed wasn’t easy. He wouldn’t let anyone touch him but Archie, it stung, but FP let his boy be. It wasn’t the kids fault, he was probably terrified of touch right now, and FP could understand that. He never let anyone touch him when he was still living with his dad when he was younger. Couldn’t stand it. Hated it.

  
When the parents retreated from the bathroom, Archie sighed, and grabbed the sweatshirt and boxers that his dad handed him. They were his, but Jughead liked wearing his clothes anyway. Archie quite liked it too. He’s glad that it gives Juggy some comfort.

  
Archie reached for his boyfriend carefully, gently placing a another towel around him, hoping to give him some more warmth. He then helped him stand and gently unwrapped the towels from around his shaky frame. Jughead looked down wrapping arms around himself.   
Archie wanted to punch a wall when he saw the bruises on the boys thin hips, the ones around his neck, the marks on his body standing out in the light. Archie wanted to kill Hiram. Instead, he helped the boy into the clothes, and pulled him close to his chest, walking them back to the bedroom. Jughead crawled into bed, wrapping himself in the blankets laying there, and Archie couldn’t help but smile. Juggy was always such a cuddler and he adored it. Walking over to the bed, he kneeled down and ran a hand through the thick black hair that laid upon the boys hair.

  
“Do you want me to lay with you? To do you want to be alone for now?”

Jughead had nightmares before, sometimes he liked to be alone, other times he wanted to be as close to Archie as possible.

  
Jughead pulled the comforter back, letting Archie know that he wanted to be with him right now. Arch nodded, climbed in and pulled the boy closer, letting him snuggle his face into the crook of his neck.

  
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you baby.”

  
Jughead was already fast asleep.

  
When he woke up he was alone again, Archie not in sight, and the sky had darkened outside. He wondered vaguely if it was early morning and Archie was already gone for early morning basketball practice. He’s wonders were answered when his dad came into the room, holding a cup of coffee and two Advil.

“Hey bub. How’re ya feeling?”

Jughead shrugged, sitting up but keeping the blankets tightly wrapped around is body. He took the coffee gratefully, but he knew that it was decaf, his dad wanted him to get some sleep after all. FP sat on the edge of the bed, looking around the room, taking in the mess from two teenage boys living in there.

  
Jughead’s mind was somewhere else, worries clouding his thoughts, breath hard to catch. His chest felt tight, and he knew that something was off, he felt tears burn in his eyes, felt the bruises on his body burn. He felt everything crumbling. When he came around his dad was sitting next to him, wrapping him in another blanket, whispering soothing words to him. Jug let out a breath, falling into his father’s embrace tiredly.

  
“Hey, you with me bub?”

Jughead nodded, tears still running down his bruised cheeks. It was easier for him to cry around his dad, it wasn’t like Archie. He didn’t feel ugly when he cried in front of his dad. His dad had seen some of his worst times, nothing like this, but there had been times when Jug couldn’t get out of bed, when he’d scream and cry. Every time his dad was there and ready to listen. It was almost normal, as painful as that was to think of.

  
“What’s going on kid? I know you’re hurting, but you can talk to me ya know? You don’t have to keep this all locked up inside okay? I’m here to listen. I know you might not wanna talk to Archie about all of this, and that’s okay, but you’ve gotta talk to someone okay? I didn’t wanna make you see the therapist, and I won’t, but you’ve gotta talk to me.”

Jughead curled in on himself, letting his head lay on his dad's chest. The tears wouldn’t stop. Thinking about this wasn’t something he wanted to do, but his dad was also right, he needed to talk about it and sometimes it was too hard to talk to Archie about it, he was scared that Archie would see all of his flaws. How undesirable he was now.

  
“Do you think Archie is gonna be done with me now? Because of…all this.”

FP looked at him questionably, shifting so he could look at his son, he ran a hand through his hair gently.

“Why would you think that, I’ve never seen a kid more lovesick bub.”

Jug looked down, sniffing, shaking his head in protest.

“I just…maybe he doesn’t…want someone like me. Someone all messed up…and ruined. Maybe he doesn’t see me as, I don’t know…desirable. He’s probably grossed out even looking at me now.”

FP sighed, pulling his son closer. He had thought that this would happen. Jughead had never be very confident, sure of himself, and it worried FP sometimes, but when he found Red things got a little better, this wasn’t easy to fix though. His son wasn’t pushed around by the kids at school, or left behind by Archie over the summer. This was so entirely different. God, his son was raped by a grown man that’s supposed to be looking out for the kids. It isn’t a surprise that Juggy thinks Archie doesn’t want him anymore, but he sure as hell isn’t gonna let his kid think that no one wants him anymore. He won’t let his boy fall apart again. It might be hard, but last time he missed it, he had found his son on the bathroom floor with both his wrist slit.

  
“Juggy, baby, I’m sure that he doesn’t see you that way. You’re not disgusting, you’re not messed up or ruined. This wasn’t your fault, it will never be your fault bub. You didn’t do anything wrong, or bad to deserve this. It doesn’t matter where you come from or who you date, what you do. You didn’t deserve this. Archie knows that, I know that, hell, Freddie knows that. You’ve gotta focus on getting better, taking some time to think about things. I know it’s hard kiddo. You probably feel so fucking lost right now, and I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to help you, protect you. That’s on me. If you ever feel like you’re going to do something, hurt yourself, you have to come to me okay? We’ll figure it out.”

Juggy held onto his dad tighter, so thankful that he still has him.

  
“I can’t stop dreaming about it dad, I can’t…every time I think about going outside, I just think that he’ll be there, waiting for me. I can’t do it. I can’t even breathe without be scared. I’m so fucking scared. The police are doing nothing all because….he has money, they don’t believe me, no one does.”

FP swiped a tear from his cheek and pressed a kiss to his temple. Wishing endlessly that he could take his boys pain away.

“I believe you bub. I believe you. Archie does. Fred does. We know. I believed you okay? You’re not alone in this. I’m here, Archie is, and Freddie.”

Jughead nodded, trying to stop the tears falling down his cheeks.

“I just…the cops keep asking for proof, but…can’t…I mean all they have to do is open their fucking eyes and look at me. It's not like they didn’t make me sit there and let them take pictures, it’s not like I didn’t have to go through another fucking exam for them. They have their proof, I’m right here.”

Sobs couldn’t be stopped, his dad held him, wiped the tears away, but all Jughead could do was cry and sob, wanting nothing more than to go back in time and not get involved with all of this.

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay baby. You’re gonna be just fine. C’mere.”

Jughead held on tighter, afraid to let go. Afraid that the darkness would take him.

“It hurt…so….so b-bad and they don’t even believe me…”

Jug is surprised that his dad even heard him over the sobs.

“I know kid, God, I know bub. We’re gonna take care of this. It’s gonna be okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it’ll be okay one day. You just gotta focus on getting better alright? I’m gonna take care of this, take care of you. I promise bub.”

  
FP held on to the shaking, sobbing boy until he fell asleep in his arms. Even then, he could let go, for the last time he did, he had nearly lost his boy forever.

  
Waking up was even harder the second time, all Jughead wanted to do was turn back over and fall back asleep, but his dad was persistent on him getting up and taking a shower. He needed one, he’d give his dad that. Archie was still out, getting some things from the store that his dad needed, but he had left Jug a sweatshirt to wear throughout the day, for that he was thankful. FP helped him to the bathroom and told him to just call him if he needed anything. He knows that his son is in pain, and he can’t imagine how awful it is. He doesn’t wanna imagine the pain that his boy is in. Jughead sat on the shower floor, because at this point standing hurt too much, and he couldn’t stand in the shower for more than two minutes. The water was steaming, and for some reason he thought that maybe the water would just wash away everything, all the scars, bruises, blood, pain. Maybe it would all go down the drain and he wouldn’t have to deal with it ever again. It was foolish and he knew that he was being naive, but he could hope and wish that it was possible. It wasn’t and he knew that, he’d have to get out of the shower and face the world. He’d have to step outside of the house and face the outside world rather than staying cooped up in there forever. He didn’t wanna go back out, Hiram was still out there and he was sure that he’d get him again. Fear was living in his chest, gripping him tightly, and he couldn’t stop it from growing, expanding. It clawed at him every night, every morning when he opened his eyes, it was constant. He needed it to stop, but it wouldn’t, it couldn’t, not until Hiram was locked away for good. It would never come to that though. Hiram at money, had the cops wrapped around his pinke. It wasn’t fair, and it made Jughead wanna scream and rage, but all he could do was cry, sob his heart out. All he could do was wish for the summer back, wish for his virginity back. The shower became cold quickly and he was forced to get out. The mirror was fogged over and he was thankful for that, seeing himself was sickening. He pulled on Archie’s sweatshirt and some sleep boxers. Opening the bathroom door he heard talking coming from downstairs, his dad and Fred. He couldn’t really hear them and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. Instead, he walked into Archie’s room and laid back down on the bed, looking up at the faded glow in the dark stars that had been on the ceiling for ages now, some were torn, but some still shined slightly at night. It calmed him somehow. Reminded him of the simpler times, when he could laugh and smile, play and be a kid. There was a time before all of this pain, and looking at those stars reminded him of that. Of those times.   
Archie came home a few minutes later, Jug could hear him stomping through the door and placing groceries on the counter top. He said something to his dad and made his way up stairs. Arch smiled when he saw his boy laying in bed, curled up in his sweatshirt, playing with a loose thread on the bed sheets.

“Hey baby. How’re ya feeling?”

Jughead shrugged. He was really fucking sick of people asking him that, but Archie was an exception. He always was. Always will be. Archie never meant to hurt him when he did, he just wanted to help and Jughead was sensitive, it’s not Archie’s fault and it never will be.   
“I’ve been better, but I managed to eat a whole sandwich today so I’m taking that as a plus.” Arch smiled sadly and shrugged out of his letterman jacket, letting it slip to the floor with a soft thud. Jughead wasn’t sure why Archie was home so early considering he most likely had practice, but he didn’t bother asking, not finding the energy to do so.

  
“Do you wanna watch the Office? I could use some good old Michael Scott offensive jokes. Only if you’re up to it though.”

Jughead nodded and scooted closer to the wall, letting Archie climb into the bed and pull him to his chest, running his hands through his thick black hair. He turned on Netflix even though they both weren’t really paying any attention, Archie to angered to do much of anything other than hold his boyfriend, and Jug too lost to pay attention for more than five minutes at a time.

  
FP got back to the Andrews’ house a little later than usual, but he needed to stop and get some things for Jug, and a refill of his medication. The house was quiet and still, the only sound was Vegas’ heavy breathing. He faintly heard the sound of a television on upstairs, but figured that both boys must be asleep, and Fred was most likely working late again. After putting everything back in its place and tripping over Archie’s shoes, he made his way upstairs to check on his son and Red.

  
Making his way down the hallway, FP opened the door, and cringed at the loudness of the TV, mentally preparing to scold Red for it, but then seeing both of them asleep and curled up under the comforters. With a sigh, he grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, smiling a little at the choice of show. Ready to get some sleep, he pivoted and began to walk out the door, but then heard a faint sigh. He turned back around to face the bed, seeing Jug stir a little, opening his blue eyes. He furrowed his brows and pushed himself up on an elbow. 

“Dad?”

His voice was rough, and it was clear that he hadn’t got enough water today. The boy looked exhausted and about ready to pass out again.

  
“It’s okay bub, I was just turning off the TV and checking up on you. Go back to sleep, looks like you could use it right about now.”

Jughead rubbed his eyes and shook his head, crawling over the sleeping redhead and padding his way over to his dad, hugging him tightly.

  
FP was taken aback, but quickly returned the hug, letting his son bury his face into his neck. 

“Everything alright Juggy?”

  
His son’s shoulders shook a little and he knew that he was in fact crying, it wasn’t uncommon anymore, but it broke FP’s heart every single time he heard those cries. 

“I don’t wanna feel like this anymore dad. I don’t wanna feel like everything is falling apart, like there’s something missing now. I just wanna go back and make this not happen.”

FP nodded, running a hand down his son’s spine, trying to soothe him of the obvious pain that he was enduring.

  
“I know kiddo. I know you want to. But it’s not an option, we all wish it was, but it’s not and we have to deal with that. I know it’s hard, but you’re strong enough to get through this. I know you bub, you’re strong enough. You just need to rest and take some time to figure this all out. I know things are confusing right now, but you’ve just gotta work through all these thoughts and feelings. It’s going to be okay.”

Jug shook his head and pulled away, wiping his tears and sniffling.

“I don’t feel like it’s going to be okay.”

FP nodded again, brushing a falling piece of hair from Jug’s forehead.

  
“C’mon, how bout we head down stairs and get you something to eat. I know you said you’re not very hungry, but you’ve gotta try and eat okay?”

His boy nodded, letting his dad wrap an arm around his slim shoulders and lead him down the staircase. Jughead winced slightly on his way down, even though it’s not as bad, it still hurt to walk at times. His dad saw but pretended not to notice for Jug’s sake. They made their way into the kitchen and his dad held up a bag from Pop’s, making Jughead smile slightly. His dad was really trying to get him to eat.

“I got your favorite, I put the milkshake in the fridge just in case you don’t want it right now.”

The boy nodded and thanked him, grabbing a plate, and dumping some fries onto it, along with one burger, even though he could usually finish two. He wasn’t feeling very up to it today.

  
Jughead and his dad sat on the couch, and his dad turned the TV to some random channel that was playing To Kill A Mockingbird. It was a classic, but also a touchy subject at the moment, his dad went to change it, but Jug stopped him claiming that he hadn’t seen it in awhile. FP smiled sadly, and left the remote on the arm rest just in case.

  
It was nearly 11pm when Fred walked through the door with a sigh. He shrugged out of his coat, and kicked off his boots. He turned, looking at FP, and then noticing the small boy drowning in a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants. He couldn’t help but smile, Jug hadn’t been out of Archie’s room much, rarely actually, and he was glad that he’d made his way down here, and that FP had managed to get him out of bed.

  
“Hey Jug. How’re doing?”

The boy shrugged and pulled his knees closer to his chest, leaning his head on his dad’s shoulder, eyes heavy. It was obvious that he was tired, but neither FP or Fred said anything and they let the boy fall asleep in FP’s arms for the night.

  
Fred bid them both a goodnight and made his way upstairs, leaving FP to his thoughts for the night.

  
At some point, the whole house was asleep, and the rain outside picked up, thunder coming along with it. Jughead woke up startled by a flash of light and a Big Bang. His dad’s arm was around him, and his head been pillowed in his chest. It seemed that he couldn’t catch his breath, and he tried desperately to calm himself down, telling himself that it’s nothing, that he’s fine, no one is coming to grab him, and he’s going to be just fine. Nothing seemed to work, and it was no time before he fell to the floor gasping, reaching out for something to steady him, ground him and remind him where he is. Nothing came to he’s reach, and a strong fear moved through him causing him to gag, and push up onto unsteady legs. He made his way to the kitchen, pulling the back door open, trying to breathe in the fresh air, but he ended up falling and scraping his knees against the concrete on the patio. His palms dug into it painfully, and he couldn’t help the tears that came like a flood. A sob escaped his throat as the rain drenched him, and he curled in on himself, sobbing into his knees, wishing for this to stop, for everything to just stop for a moment.

  
He doesn’t know when he started crying out, or when he started crying for his dad, for anyone to help him, but his throat was raw by the time arms pulled him back into the house and a door closed. The lamp in the kitchen switch on, and there were arms around him again, along with a blanket.

  
Everything flooded back slowly, he faintly heard his dad talking, telling him over and over that he was safe, that nothing was going to hurt him again. He doesn’t know how long it took his dad to calm him down, but he eventually uncurled his limbs and launched himself into his dad’s arms, burying his face into his chest, clinging to the only warmth in reach.   
Gentle hands combed through his soaked hair and he shivered, a chill running through him.   
“Shh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay, I’m here. He’s not going to hurt you, it was just noise, it’s alright, take a deep breath okay?” Jughead let himself cry into his dad’s sweatshirt until it got to be to cold in his soaked clothes. 

“C’mon bub, you’ve gotta take a bath, or something, you’re shaking, you’ll get sick kiddo. We’ve gotta warm you up alright?”

Jug shook, stuttering through his words.

“I’m-they-i don’t wanna w-wake the-them. I’m….I’m so-sorry d-dad.”

FP gently picked him up, cradling the back of his head and pressing a kiss to his temple, the way he did when Jug had nightmares when he was younger.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay bub, you didn’t mean to, you couldn’t help it, you just got scared, that’s all, it’s okay, c’mon, gotta get you warmed up alright?”

Jughead nodded, and let his dad carry him up the stairs and into the guest bathroom. He closed the door gently and let him sit on the toilet. Jug zoned out as his dad ran the water, letting it get to the right temperature. He barely registers his dad helping him out of his soaked clothing, and helping him step into the bath. He comes back to his senses when his dad starts washing his hair, speaking soothing words and running a gentle hand up and down his back, being careful not to go to low, knowing that it would only scare Juggy. By the time he got into a pair of joggers and a clean sweatshirt that must belong to his dad, it was nearly 4am. Jughead nearly turned and walked down the hall to Archie’s room, but his dad wrapped an arm around him and led him to the extra bedroom where he was staying. Jug crawled under the blankets as his dad closed the blinds, hoping the sunlight wouldn’t wake them up. As soon as his dad was under the blankets, Jug reached for him, and let him pull him into his arms. The familiar scent of his dad calming him the best it could, helping him drift into a dreamless sleep.


	2. falling further

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead doesn't really know what's wrong with him right now.

**__**

The world came back to him slowly. Light poured through the closed currents of the extra bedroom, and his father’s slow breathing filled his mind. It was near silent, nothing made a peep and Jughead wondered if it was a school day or not. He had been losing track of the days, losing his sense of time. Everything was faded together into a thick black cloud that hung over him. The world didn’t move, his world was shattered and torn, but other people had their life. Had their world. They went to work, they smiled and laughed, they went to school and went to the football games every Friday night. 

Jughead was lost in an abyss of pain and sorrow. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to claw is way out this time. 

He often thinks back to the time when he was 14 and slit both his wrists on the bathroom floor. He thinks about his father's cries and apologizes a lot. He thinks about how scared Archie had looked those few weeks after that night while Jughead was in the hospital. He wonders if everyone thought he was a broken boy then, he wonders if they know he never really got any better. Maybe that’s why this hurt so much, too much. He was never actually okay, he was never really any better, but there were times where it was easier to hide the pain, times when he was okay for a little over a week. 

He had Archie throughout the years now, he had him as more than a friend, but a boyfriend. Someone to hold him and laugh with him, someone to kiss him senseless and make him feel something other than pain. 

He had his wonderful, cheerful boyfriend. 

And gosh, he was so scared that this would be what it’d take for Archie to go running. The boy would finally see that broken, shattered part of Jug and realize that he was dating a broken boy. 

He wonders about a lot of things lately. 

He thinks about a lot of things lately. 

Thoughts were cut off by his father's voice. 

“Jug? You up?” 

_ Yes. I don’t want to be though. I want to be dead. Why am I not dead?  _

“Ya, I’m up.” 

His own voice sounded foreign and broken. He didn’t recognize himself anymore. He didn’t see who he used to be, but rather who he is now. He doesn’t like who he sees now, he doesn’t understand why he is the way he is now. 

But he has someone to blame though, and that made him feel a lot better at times like these. 

Hiram Lodge was the only thing that he could really blame but himself and he took every opportunity to do so. 

He knows that his father has been talking with Sheriff Keller about everything that happened. He knows that his dad has spent countless nights trying to get Lodge locked away for what he did. 

The whole town thinks that he’s the boy that cried wolf, the liar. Most people say that he’s a freak, and that if it actually happened that he deserved it. 

Jughead has a lot of things said about him throughout the years he’s been going to school, but that had to hurt the most. 

No one deserves this, but they wouldn’t understand that, they don’t understand the pain that he has been going through for the past week in a half. No one does. 

No matter how much his dad wants to be there for him and how much Archie wants to help, they don’t help. They are both amazing. They both want what’s best for him and he knows that. They are doing so much and the comfort is reassurance during times of doubt. But, they can’t fix him. He’s broken now and he isn’t sure if he can glue himself back together again. 

“How about we get you some breakfast? I think it’s just use. Freddie had to go into work again today, and Archie’s at school ya?” 

Jughead only nodded and forced himself out of the bed. He didn’t want to get up. He wanted to hide under the covers for years until the fear he’d been feeling just left. Until he felt okay again. But that was never going to happen if he stayed in bed for the rest of time. 

His dad seemed to sense his caution and fear, and placed a tentative arm around his waist, leading him down the stairs and into the kitchen for some breakfast. 

He could barely eat one bite. 

  
  
  


Archie got home from school a little later than usual, and was utterly exhausted. He was about ready to collapse into bed and just sleep until dinner or something. 

He walked through the door and was met with silence. Nothing. Not even a TV playing. 

Last night he had woken up to his bed being empty and he nearly flipped his shit. Jughead not being next to him was terrifying and made him think the worse. 

After a little investigation, he knew that Juggy was safe and with his dad in the extra bedroom down the hall. He didn’t question it. 

His boyfriend has been switching between him and his father for comfort for the past week. It wasn’t anything personal and Archie understood that. He wasn’t taking it personally. Jughead felt comfortable sharing some things with him and other things with his father. That was perfectly okay with him and he wasn’t about to ask Jug why he had left the bed last night. He wasn’t going to ask him something had happened. He was going to give the boy some pace. Jughead has been needing a lot of space lately and Archie was more than willing to give it to him for as long as he needed it. After everything that happened, Arch was shocked that the boy was okay with him touching him for more than a few seconds, let alone throughout the night. 

It was nice to know that Jughead saw him as a support rather than a threat thought and he took that to heart. He used it to reassure himself when he thought that Jug was scared of him. 

The boy was never scared of him exactly. But more of the fantom hands that came into light whenever Archie touched him. 

With a sigh, he slipped his shoes off and climbed the staircase, opening his door and seeing the smaller boy in his bed, curled up in layers of blankets and reading a book. 

“Hey baby. How’re you doing?” 

The boy shot his eyes up to meet Archie’s and he smiled a little, scooting over, but getting caught in the blankets and getting tangled up. 

Arch laughed a little and slipped his shirt off, he unwrapped the boy from the blankets and climbed in next to him. Jughead seems hesitant for a minute, but was otherwise quick to snuggle his way into Archie’s arms. 

A soft sigh left the boys plump lips and Archie couldn’t help but miss kissing them. 

He had been staying away from anything like that since everything happened. He didn’t want to scare Jughead and he knew that the boy probably wasn’t up for anything like that. 

Instead of kissing his lips, he went of the temple and brought the boy closer to his chest. He let him bury his face into his neck and relax into him. 

“I’m okay. Nothing interesting really. Just reading.” 

Archie smiled a little at that, glad that the boy was doing something other than crying or sleeping or staring off into space. 

“What book?” 

“To Kill a Mockingbird. It was on TV last night and my dad and I were watching it. Made me wanna read it again.” 

Arch hummed in response and kissed the boys head again. He had never finished the book Freshman year and actually had Jug tell him about most of what happened in the thing. 

It sounded good, but Archie wasn’t a reader for the life of him. 

Jug moved a little and pressed a kiss to Archie’s lips. The taller boy jumped in shock, causing Jug it giggle the tiniest bit. 

A smile spread across the redheads face at the beautiful sound that he had missed so much. 

“Did I scare you or something?” 

Arch shook his head and pulled his boy closer to him. 

“Nah, I just wasn’t expecting that. Didn’t know if you’d want to be doing that right now.” 

Jug shrugged his shoulders and settled back down into Archie’s embrace. 

“That part is okay. Don’t worry about that.” 

Archie huffed a little kissing the boys cheek softly. 

“I’ve always worried about you. Nothing is going to stop me from doing that love. Sorry to break it to ya.” 

Jug laughed a little and let his eyes slip close, feeling the slightest bit content with things. 

Archie couldn’t help but run his fingers through the boys thick black hair, he smiled, and closed his own eyes. 

He was more than happy to stay here for the rest of the night. 

  
  


Both boys were woken up when Fred Andrews came in the room announcing that dinner was ready. 

Archie was up right away, he always was a light sleeper, but Jughead was groggy as hell and incapable of getting out of the bed. Arch couldn’t tell if a wave of sadness hit him and he just didn’t wanna get up, or if the boy was just really tired.

Either way, Arch tried to coax him out of bed, only to be ignored. 

His heart was heavy as he walked down the stairs, shaking his head at his dad’s questioning look, along with FP’s. 

It wasn’t unusual for Jughead to be too distraught to get out of bed now. It was just a part of life and it was something everyone had to get use to for now. 

FP sighed sadly and gave them both a soft smile before getting up and walking up the staircase. 

Jughead had been doing well today, and it hurt FPs heart to think about his son falling back into that dark hole. 

He knocked gently on the bedroom door and only opened it when he didn’t get a response. He’s had to learn to give Jug some time and space this past week. There have been times where is son will scream and yell and others when he’ll be clinging to him and sobbing into his chest. 

Both of those times broke his heart in ways that it hadn’t been. FP has somehow remembered to take care of himself throughout all of this, which is something he’s grateful for, it’s reassuring to know that he can give his best self to his son. He is desperate for his boy to know that he isn’t alone in this. Juggy as been through a lot in his short life, but this is something that can’t be fixed quickly. He needs time and space to figure things out and think through the things that he can’t seem to. 

His son was curled up on the bed when he walked into the room. 

Everything about the place screamed teenage boy, and it made FP smile a little bit. It was nice to know that Jug had a space that suited both him and Archie. FP couldn’t give that to his son back at the trailer, and he was beyond grateful that his son got that here. 

“Hey Juggy. You sure you don’t wanna come eat something? We’re having pizza..” His boy didn’t make a move to respond, but rather he just laid there, staring at the wall in front of him. 

“Jughead? Come on bub, I know it’s hard, but you’ve gotta keep eating. Please baby?” 

His son shook his head and curled in on himself. FP couldn’t faintly see the tears streaming down his face, and he thinks maybe his son had a nightmare. But he also knows that sometimes his son just needs a moment to cry, to let things go. 

FP is still proud of him though. His son was doing really well today, up until now, of course, but he did good today. 

Carefully, he sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through his boys hair. 

“It’s okay kid. I promise you’re going to be okay. You did good today. Really good bub. You’re trying your best and I’m so proud of you kiddo.” 

Jug turned around and faced his dad, blue eyes met brown and FP could see the pain building in his boys eyes. 

“I just...sometimes it hurts too much to think, or to be apart of reality. I know I sound crazy, but maybe I am. Maybe I really am crazy and I’m sorry that I am. I just want to be okay but I’m never going to be. I can’t be okay anymore. I can’t even go outside dad...I’m scared all the time and I don’t think I’m going to feel okay ever again.” 

FP didn’t have any words for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blah this is probably bad oh no


	3. Baby steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FP is a proud dad and Jughead takes a breath of fresh air

It took three more days for FP to get Jughead out of the house. Those three days were slow moving and hard on the both of them. 

FPs heart broke every single time his boy couldn’t get out of bed, let alone downstairs. Jughead was going through the phases though, it was normal for rape victims. FP had taken the time to sit down with Jug’s doctor and talk about the symptoms that his son might experience. They had wanted to talk with his boy too, but he didn’t want to put Jughead through that in the moment. The boy was shaking and traumatized, in fact, he didn’t speak for at least 48 hours. 

For the past three days, his boy had warmed up to others touch and talking some more. He has even started typing away on his laptop again. FP knew that it wasn’t a lot, and that Juggy wasn't all there, but it was enough for now. Jughead wasn’t the best with touch from anyone beside Archie and FP. 

It was enough for now though. 

FP has woke his boy up this morning after letting him sleep in until 11. Archie was long gone and at school for the day and Fred would be back by 4 with something to eat for dinner. 

Juggy was curled up in the fluffy blankets that Fred had brought from the linen closet, and it was staring blankly at the wall. With a soft sigh, FP sat down and pulled a loose string from the baggy flannel that his son was wearing. He thinks that maybe it’s his, but he isn’t quite sure. 

Gentle fingers combed through Jughead’s hair and ran down his boney back. 

“Hey, bub, come on, time to get up alright?” 

His son shook his head and pulled the blankets up to his neck, completely covering himself. FP knew that it was a sense of comfort for his son, he knew that it made him feel surrounded by warmth and comfort, but he couldn’t stay in bed all day. It was healthy for him. 

“Jug, I know it’s hard but you’ve gotta get out of bed, please baby? I promise you’re gonna feel better once you take a shower and get on something clean.” 

His boy sighed and pulled himself out from underneath the blankets, shivering and wrapping his arms around himself. He didn’t wanna get up, he didn’t want to deal with the world, he didn’t want to face life head on. He knew that he needed to move on and that he couldn’t live in the past, he knew that he needed to try and make things better. Most of all, he knew that his dad was trying so hard, but he was so fed up with everything and he was agitated with everything. 

He wanted to badly to give into the thoughts in his mind, he wanted so badly to end it all and let the world fade away with his problems. 

Jug knew that it wasn’t the way to go and that he shouldn’t be thinking about all of that stuff, that he shouldn’t be keeping it all to himself. He knew that he needed to tell his dad like he promised him and his therapist two years ago. He promised that if he ever felt like that, that he would tell someone about everything that was going on in his head. 

God he was losing his mind, he was losing it and he was never going to get it back. He was a lost cause. He wasn’t worth the time and effort that everyone put into him. 

He was brought back to reality by his dad brushing a thumb across his cheek, his other hand squeezing his shoulder softly. 

“Come on bub, how about you take that shower and I’ll make us some lunch to eat? Maybe I’ll go get Pop’s?” 

Jughead had to admit, it sounded amazing and he could definitely eat two burgers on a good day. But, he had been losing his appetite lately, he hasn’t been able to eat a full meal in days. 

He thought about it though, and he was actually pretty hungry, he was willing to take a shower and eat something. It was something, and that was all he needed to keep going for a few more hours. Although he wanted to have some Pop’s, he didn’t want his dad to leave him alone for even a half an hour. 

“Can we just eat something here? I don't ...I don’t want you to go anywhere. He might ...wonder if he…” 

FP shushed him and placed a soft kiss to his forehead. Understanding eyes meant Jug’s and he was beyond grateful for his father once again. 

“Hey, no it’s okay, alright? We can eat something from here, that’s totally fine kiddo. But, how about you come with me to Pop’s? We can get something there, to go or for there. I’ll be with you the whole time, no one is going to get a hand on you baby. No one. I swear to you.” 

Juggy bit his lip as his eyes filled with tears. 

“I think...maybe I should just stay here. It’s probably for the best ya know?” 

FP sighed and pulled his boy in for a hug, running a hand up and down his spine with his breath.

“I think it’s best if you get outside baby. I think it’d be good for you alright?” 

Jughead was apprehensive as expected, but FP managed to get him out of bed and into the shower, and by 12:30 his boy was sitting in the passenger seat of the car. 

It took a solid 10 minutes to get his son to walk out the front door of the house, the boy had froze in place and went into a sense of shock. FP got him to calm down and let his son curl closer to him as they walked out to the car. 

Driving over to Pop’s wasn’t all that hard, but getting Juggy to come inside with him was a mission. 

The boy was stuck to the seat, and he was staring at all the people in the diner, all of the people that could hurt him, that would want to hurt him. 

All of those people that might’ve heard about all of this already, they might not believe him, they might think that he was a liar and that he just wanted attention. 

No one seemed to believe him anymore. 

No one beside Archie, his dad and Fred. 

Him and Betty hadn’t been talking lately, not since that night. Archie must’ve told her what happened, but the blonde didn’t want to believe what happened. Her and Veronica has been dating for months, and she didn’t want to think that Hiram was capable for that. 

He was alone and yet he wasn’t. 

FP had managed to get him out of the car and into the diner, but he didn’t miss the way his boy kept his head down, he didn’t miss the way his cheeks burned bright red when the kids at the fat booth glanced at him and then laughed. 

FP had never wanted to punch someone more than those kids. How dare they make his kid feel more humiliated and ashamed than he already did? 

Did they get off on that?

Did they think that it was fun to make his son suffer even more than he already was? 

They grabbed their bags to go and ended up going out to the truck and driving home. 

FP didn’t mind that his burger was a little cold by the time that they got to eat it, he didn’t care that Jughead barely touched the food that he had just paid for. 

He didn’t care because his chest was swelling with pride for his boy. 

His boy had gone out for the first time in nearly two weeks today and he was so, so proud of him. It was such a little step, but it was enough to make FP feel a little calmer. He knew that his son was going to be exhausted mentally, and that he was going to have a rough few hours now that he was back, but his son made it outside today. 

He was beaming with pride, and he would’ve been even if his son didn’t make it out of the bed. He would be proud if his sons didn’t make it out of the house for another two weeks, because at least his boy was trying, he was getting up and opening his eyes everyday even though his pain was unbearable most of the time. 

His son was his pride and joy, and had been for so long. FP hasn’t been the best father and there’s no getting around that, but he loves his son, and there is no way that he’s going to let his son suffer aloneness throughout this thinking that he’s alone in this. He didn’t want Jughead to feel like he didn’t have a source of comfort from something else other than a blanket or two, he needed his son to know that’s he was here for him and that he wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going anywhere, not until his son was remotely okay again, not until his son felt like this crushing grief was gone. 

He was so proud of his boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short, but I wanted a little more FP and Juggy time since they’re father and son. I feel like their PLATONIC relationship needs to be explored more. Everyone thinks that FP would be relatively bad at comforting his boy, but let’s be honest, he is very protective of Jughead and loves him so much, so I feel as though he would be a great dad to him throughout something like this.


	4. Set backs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead gets a visit from an unwanted visitor

It was unexpected when it happened, both FP and Fred were sleeping because of how tired they were, and Archie was at football practice for at least two hours.

  
Jughead didn’t mind being alone as long as he knew that his father or Archie was in the house with him, but when he heard a strange noise, he wanted to wake his father.

  
A part of him didn’t want to though, he knew that his dad was tired and that he was becoming more exhausted with the days. Jughead wasn’t being the easiest person to take care of, especially now that everything happened. He was falling apart everyday and trying to put himself back together again. He couldn’t see himself getting better any time soon though, because he knew that he wasn’t healing the best way. He was holding everything in, to ashamed and afraid to open up completely to his father or Archie. Fred wasn’t even on option to Juggy. Of course he loved the man like a father and he felt safe in his house, but it was still hard to let the man see the broken side of him. It was hard to accept that he was falling apart and that he needed some sort of help after all.

  
He didn’t want to be depressed again, but he was starting to think that it never actually went away after all. Maybe he should’ve stayed on meds and maybe he should’ve kept going to his therapist, even if it was once a month. Maybe he should’ve told his dad that he was feeling down again, that he was feeling a little hopeless and broken, that he wasn’t sure that he was okay anymore.

  
He probably should’ve said something to someone, and then he could’ve had it taken care of, but then he’d have to go back to that hospital and sit on that bed, he’d be asked all of those questions that made him feel like a freak. He’d be put on meds that made him feel out of control and broken for years.

  
He didn’t want to feel like that again, not after last time. He just wanted to be able to fix this himself and call it good, but that wasn’t much of an option anymore, he knew that.

  
He wasn’t stupid. He knew that he needed help and that he should probably talk with someone about everything.   
Someone that isn’t his dad.

  
Archie was great, he was supportive and kind, but it was hard to open up to him, it was hard to be happy and sarcastic around his boyfriend again. It was hard to be the Jughead that Arch knew and loved.

  
It was scary, to think that his boyfriend would leave him behind because he had been broken and torn apart on the god forsaken night. Maybe Archie would see how messed up he was now, how broken and fucked up he was. Archie wasn’t going to love him again, he wasn't going to want to kiss him again, or touch him again. He wouldn’t want to touch Jughead in places that he use to be the only one to touch. Archie wasn’t going to want some broken boy that used to be the boy that he loved.   
Jug was missing so many pieces, but he wasn’t really missing them, they were broken, and he had lost them.   
Shattered and gone forever. He was lost and alone, falling deeper and further into the dark abyss of his life.

  
Deciding to watch a movie was the best thing that Jughead has thought of the whole entire day.   
He was tired and worn out for writing in the morning, and he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep, but he wasn’t going to do anything productive either.

  
A movie was the next best option and he rather liked the idea.

  
Him being a geek, he turned on the Avengers movie, and decided that he would try and watch at least two of them today. One thing that he remembers from therapy is that it’s a good idea to set goals for each day, to have a plan to do something, and he thought that it was a rather good plan.

  
He didn’t really wanna watch Infinity War, because he has been doing enough crying on his own, and seeing Tom Holland die was going to break his heart.

  
The guy was rather hot if he was being honest. Even though every time he said that Archie would laugh and claim that he was far hotter. Which, okay, sure.

  
He got about halfway through the first movie when a knock came at the door. He nearly jumped out of his skin because it was so loud and aggressive, but he somehow managed to withhold his yelp.

  
The person at the door didn’t let up the knocking and Jughead thought that maybe it was one of Fred’s workers, maybe he forgot something at the site that he hadn’t noticed.

  
With a huff, he got up from his cocoon of blankets and padded over to the door, making sweater paws out of his long sweatshirt. He carefully opened the door, not wanting to wake up either of the men sleeping upstairs, cause honestly, he already felt really bad about being the one making them tired.

  
Jughead could’ve sworn that his heart stuttered to a stop, a chill ran throughout his whole body and he swore he could’ve died right then and there.

  
That smile, the goddamn smile that he saw every night in his dreams, that smile that haunted him every day and night, that smile he saw when he was torn apart by the seams.

  
“Mr. Jones, how odd to see you here. I assume you can get through your thick skull that this isn’t your house?”

  
Jug wanted to curl up in a ball and beg for mercy. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to tear this man apart. He wanted to kill him. But, he couldn’t.

  
He was in shock, completely terrified and disturbed.

  
He couldn’t move, not while Hiram Lodge was staring him down in the doorway.

  
The man was smirking, a snide smile making its way onto his face, and Jughead thinks maybe he’s dreaming. But, this feels far too real, and it seems like his feet are stuck to the ground.

  
_Look for a clock Jughead, there’s no sense of time in dreams. There won’t be one._

  
The clock on the wall of the living room was staring him down though and he nearly threw up, because this was in fact very real.

  
He faintly heard walking from upstairs and he prayed to whoever was above that the person upstairs hurried up and got down here.

  
Jughead couldn’t bring himself to talk, he couldn’t move, and there was no way he could yell for help. Hiram was there, he was very real, and Jug was sure that the man was going to hurt him. Part of him thought that maybe Hiram wouldn’t try anything because he must’ve saw the cars parked outside, but then again that man was unpredictable.

  
It came out of nowhere, and Jughead was shocked that he even opened his mouth to say something, but the question had been nagging at him for the past few weeks and he _needed_ to know. He had to have an answer.

  
“Why me?”

  
He thought that maybe Hiram didn’t hear him at first because the man's face stayed neutral but then that smile came back, and the man stepped forward a little, brushing Jug’s cheeked with his rough thumb, causing a sob to escape the boy’s throat.

  
“Because honey, I knew how much _fun_ you were going to be. You were asking for it hun, and boy, seeing you cry like that it was the highlight of me li-“

  
“What the fuck is going on here?!”

  
Jughead jumped at the sound of his fathers booming voice and hurried steps down the stairs. He must’ve snapped out of whatever trans he was in because he backed away to the corner and slid down to the floor, curling his knees up to his chest.   
He could hear Hiram’s smile.

  
“Ah, FP Jones, it’s been some time since I’ve seen you. I’ve gotta say though, you made a very _pretty_ son.”

  
Jug could hear his father's growl, and he heard the telltale sign of a punch being thrown.

  
“You’ve got some fucking nerve showing up here and running your mouth the way you always do. Get the hell away from this house and never come near my boy again. You’re lucky I haven’t put a bullet in that thick skull of yours!”

  
The door slammed shut and silence filled the room, the only sounds being Jughead’s labored breathing. He couldn’t catch his breath, and he knew that he was crying again and he hated himself for it. He had gone the day without a tear, but now it seemed like he was set back at least a week in his recovery. Just seeing the man was heartbreaking, hearing his words made him feel weak and useless, he felt used and broken. He feels like he should’ve fought more, that maybe he should just end it all, and forget about all of the pain.

  
God, there was so much pain, everything hurt and he thinks that he should go take a bottle of pills and say goodbye to all of the pain life brings him.

  
A gentle hand was placed on his boney knee, and he really wishes he didn't jump away but touch was still something that was hard for him, even if it was his father.

  
“Juggy, hey, he’s gone, you’re fine. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  
The boy only shook his head to ease his dad’s worrying. With a wet sniffle, he uncurled himself from his position and looked up to his dad for answers that he most likely didn't have.

  
Jughead reached out for his dad after calming himself and realizing that he was actually his dad and Hiram was out to get him. The man was gone and he was safe again, he was fine and he would be fine. He just needed to calm down.

  
His dad looked him over and brushed his hair away from his eyes, giving him a sad, yet reassuring smile. The older man’s gaze moved over to the TV, seeing that the movie was playing and that Jug’s laptop was open, a new document was open.   
His son was having a good day, it was a good day and he got out of bed in the morning. He made a list of things to do, and although it was write and watch movies, it was something other than lay in bed and cry. It was a good day for his boy and he was still proud of him.

  
Part of him knew that Jughead had been set back by the interaction with Hiram and that it probably took a toll on him, but he was glad that his son was at least letting him touch him without flinching too much. He knew that he would have to do some reassuring for his boy, he would have to make him see that Hiram was gone and that it was going to be okay now, that the man most likely won't be coming back to the house now that he knew one of his crimes was living there for the time being.   
FP’s heart was heavy as his listened to his son sobbed into his chest, but he pushed it back and helped his boy off of the floor and got him back over to the couch, unpausing the movie and wrapping the shaking boy in some blankets. It didn’t do much to ease the kid’s mind, but FP liked to think that it was doing something at least, he could only hope that he was doing the right thing but comforting him.

  
He knows that he has to let Jughead go through some of this on his own, but he just faced off with his rapist and FP wasn't about to let him hangout down here all alone.

  
They sat in silence, only listening to the movie for the first few minutes. Jughead zoned out quickly, thinking about everything and nothing all at once. He knows that he should be telling his dad about everything that he's feeling and the thoughts about suicide, he shouldn't be keeping it to himself, but he is and it isnt doing him any good.

  
He isn’t doing good and he knows he should be telling his dad, its for the best, but yet, he hasn’t, for some reason, he can't bring himself to see that heartbreak on his dad’s face, it’ll hurt too much and he isn’t sure if he can deal with that right now. Maybe the thoughts would go away and he would be okay again, but he really didn’t think that would be happening any time soon. He doesn't know if he’s ever going to be okay again and he wonders if his dad doesn't think he’ll be okay again too.

  
“Dad?”

  
He father hummed, running fingers through his hair and pulling him a little closer to his side.

  
“Ya bub?”

  
Jughead huffed and snuggled into his dad’s side, hiding his face in the blankets, not wanting to see the shame and sorrow in his dad’s eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to see that, not while he was breaking every minute. He was falling apart and he knew that, but it didn’t mean he wanted his father to be as well. The fact that his dad was so heartbroken over all of this was worse than the nightmares sometimes. He knows how crazy that sounds, but he really thought that his dad wouldn’t care all that much about what happened. It sounds horrible, but Jughead got himself into it and it was all his fault. He didn’t listen to anyone when they said to leave everything with Hiram alone, he didn’t fucking listen and he should’ve, then maybe he wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be sobbing on floors, having bad thoughts, being stuck in bed, drawing in pain and sorrow.

Maybe things would be okay and Archie would be able to look him in the eyes again.

  
But, he didn’t listen, he pushed people away and kept pestering Hiram, he didn’t let it go and he should’ve.

  
He never wanted any of this, he just wanted his home to be okay, he wanted to save the side of town that he grew up in. He wanted to prove to people that he was right and that he could do something to make them proud.

  
But he did the opposite and now he was sitting here broken beyond repair.

  
“Do you think I’m broken? Like…like I can’t be fixed now that this happened. I should’ve listened to everyone dad, should’ve just listened and let it go, but I wanted so badly to be right for once, I wanted to show everyone that I was right and I wanted the south side to be okay.”

  
FP sighed and shook his head , pulling his son closer and kissing his head softly.

  
“You are not broken Jughead. You’re confused and hurting right now, but you’re not broken, you’re going to be okay. It’s going to take some time, but you have so many people with you, and we’re going to help you if you just let us in. I know you wanted to do good, and just because you didn’t listen doesn't mean that this is your fault, it could never be your fault. I love you and I’m so proud of you baby.”

  
Jug shook his head and let the tears fall down his cheeks, he shifted away from his dad and wrapped the blankets tighter around himself.

  
He felt his father’s worried gaze and he knew that he was being cornering, that his actions and withdrawing were warning signs, he knew all of this. But, he didn’t care, not anymore at least.

  
He just wanted to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know that I wasn’t going to put many new chapters, but I’m enjoying writing this more than my other fits right now WHOOPS.  
> So here’s another new chapter, sorry for making Jughead get even worse, but these things take time and he had a HUGE set back in this chapter.   
> FP is going to get revenge at some point if I feel like I can write something so intense LOL.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is a heavy topic, but I’ve had this saved I’m my Docs for awhile and I haven’t done anything with it. Oops.   
> Anyway. Let me know if I should do another chapter, or if I should add on to the story. I’m working on another Jarchie fic right now so I’m trying lol.


End file.
